


MEMORIES

by Falconette



Category: Free!
Genre: F/M, kikokushijo, sfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 15:00:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6859795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falconette/pseuds/Falconette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Upon returning to Japan, Rin faces a struggle to fit back in</p>
            </blockquote>





	MEMORIES

 

Kikokushijo – returnees, the Japanese who come back to Japan after living abroad, who are usually fluent in a foreign language and carry traits of the culture they have been a part of. Unfortunately, being now a ‘strange’ element in the extremely homogenous society, they often get bullied and shunned by their peers just for being different. Google for more on the subject, I just wanted to raise the awareness.

At one point it struck me that, returning to a small town/village from Australia, be it an elite school or not, in reality someone like Rin would have faced the not-so-pretty side of the Japanese society and thus this short story.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

(setting: Rin in Samezuka academy)

 

 

**MEMORIES**

I remember meeting Rin for the first time.

He was just a stranger in a lane next to mine then, telling me matter-of-factly, “Spit on them.“

„Excuse me?“ I squinted at him, partly due to chlorine sting in my eyes, partly due to surprise as I rinsed my swimming goggles for the n-th time that day. For some reason, they kept stubbornly fogging over.

„Spit and smear.“ He repeated and shrugged, „May seem nasty, but it keeps them clear.“

I gave him a wide eyed stare, trying to determine whether he was taunting me and what I got in return was a daring grin as he adjusted the strap of his own goggles on the back of his head with a snap.

„You won't know until you try, right?“ And he was gone, rushing through the water with grace of a dancer.

I watched him leave and then reluctantly, sure I was making a fool of myself, brought the lenses towards my mouth and tentatively followed his instructions. With a grimace of slight disgust, I dipped the goggles in the water, put them on and dove in.

As I reached the far end of the pool, he was already waiting there, leaning with one elbow against the lane line separating us.

„Did it work?“ his voice was self-assured while he posed a question he already knew the answer to. That is when I first noticed the unusual shape of his teeth that gave him a predatory look despite his altruistic intentions. I also noticed he couldn't keep his eyes on my face, but his manners did seem to put up a fight against his instincts and didn't let them wander too far below my neckline. That made me smile.

He would tell me later he liked that we met at the pool; the water reveals whatever make-up, push-up bras and clothes deftly conceal. _You have no idea how difficult it is for guys,_ he had said with a wink, _half of my friends don’t know what their girlfriends look like for real._ I had rolled my eyes but I guess there is some truth in that.

That day he had been watching me swim and struggle with my goggles, an inconvenience which he turned into a chance to strike up a conversation.

You won’t know until you try.

Despite myself, I had to concur. It did work.

It worked out.

* * *

I remember when he kissed me for the first time, finally, after several dates. I was already starting to give up on the guy, surely someone as outgoing as him would have had his way with me by then, if he had been interested…

It turned out he had been, very much so, but insecure. Yes, he could wink, grin and flirt without a second thought, but when he really cared, he got hesitant and shy. He knew he couldn’t hold my hand or kiss me in public, but he was too much of a gentleman to invite me somewhere alone.  At first he was, anyway.

After he could no longer hold back and longing, lingering gazes would no longer do, he snatched his chance one rainy evening, made a safe haven of our umbrellas and hurriedly pressed his lips against mine, hot and sweet like freshly baked cupcakes. That year, I wished the rainy season would never end as we exchanged long and hungry kisses hidden by the public eye in side streets and deserted parks with the sound of raindrops pelting against our umbrellas.

Soon the kisses would no longer do for either of us and, yeah, I remember the first time I called him to tell him my parents weren’t home.

* * *

I remember when I first saw Rin angry, really angry.

The deadline for one of his group projects was coming up and he, the type who always does everything ahead of schedule, was getting nervous.

“I just don’t get it!” he tried to control his voice, but the emotions got the best of him. Enough to raise eyebrows from passers-by. “I know there are groups who don’t have enough members. And they all know they could use my help. But whomever I ask, all I get is vague replies.”

“Why don’t you simply address the teacher and ask him to assign you a group? That way no one can complain.” I tried to calm him down, offering a reasonable face-saving solution.

“The way things are going, I will have to.” Rin’s teeth flashed as he swept his hair back stubbornly from his face with his hand, “But whoever it will be, they will find a way to do the assignment behind my back. And they will not mind sharing the credit with me, just to have me out of their hair. Crazy!“

I had nothing to say to that, really. He was not the only one who could come up with face-saving solutions and wasn’t that for the best in the end?

And now that he mentioned it, I was sure his hair length did not quite fit the Samezuka academy rule book and if he were a ‘regular’ student, someone would have called him on it by now. He never seemed to point out that he was sometimes cut some slack because he was an outsider-so-to-speak, but I wisely chose not to bring that out, saving his face in a way.

 “You know what the worst thing is?” his voice became low and his eyes piercingly focused, as he turned to me, “No one ever said ‘no’ to my face. If I didn’t know how to read between the lines, I would still be waiting for everyone I asked to politely get back to me, as they said they would.”

I had nothing to say to that either. Did he forget how things are done here?

 ***

I remember when I first saw Rin crying.

Not crying during a sappy movie as he was prone to do, first furtively then, as things developed between us, openly and, well, expectedly. You can imagine my surprise when I discovered my thuggish looking significant other was a romantic and sentimental soul. In fact, he would sometimes make _me_ look bad. But those were the good times.

No, I meant the other kind of tears.

I came over to his dorm room one evening. He was alone, studying. I remember clearly he had been wearing the „I can fly. What is your superpower?“ T-shirt I gave him for our first anniversary, his long hair hanging loose and his figure bent over the small goose neck lamp he kept on his desk.

At first he wouldn’t turn towards me, staring blankly at the exam results before him, profusely streaked with red ink.

 “Japanese language test again?” I put a hand on his shoulder, leaning in to see. I knew he had problems with Japanese language and literature because he could not read and write all the required kanjis. He had been studying Japanese in Australia between school and swimming practices, but was not immersed in the culture and the gap was too wide. He got left behind.

He shook his head with no energy at all, he must have just returned from the evening practice to discover the not-so-glorious score.

“Physics.” he whispered.

“But you really studied for that one.” I put an arm around him and nuzzled his neck. “And you are good at physics.” Which was not entirely true; he was good at almost anything he focused on and was a hard worker. For someone who didn’t know him, it would be impossible to tell because Rin didn’t like people seeing how hard he tried. Like a swan, aloof and elegant for the onlookers, his legs pedaled frantically below the surface. Sometimes, however, even that wasn’t enough.

“What happened?”

“I didn’t understand parts of questions and problems.” he sighed, “And they didn’t let me bring the dictionary to the exam with me.”

I remember it was close to closing of the semester and he didn’t have the time to fix the grades. He didn’t flunk it, but he deserved a higher score. Unfortunately, the set-in-stone way of doing things did not allow oral examination in exceptional circumstances just like it didn’t allow Japanese dictionaries on physic exams. It was just not done and no amount of appeal or protest from a single student could change the tradition.

Not that he didn’t try.

The tears I saw in his eyes, when he finally did turn to me, were unfamiliar and strange. Helpless frustration and defeat made his features dull and unrecognizable. There was no shine, no will inside him anymore.  

I wish he had been angry, I wished he growled in defiance and put in twice as much effort, as he usually did, just to prove he could.

His silence and the way he slowly discarded the paper scared me.

* * *

I remember when I saw Rin for the last time.

At the airport, after the decision he had made and I had to accept, after the long, painful talks, after the resentment, the blame, the anger, the resignation, the goodbyes, all that was left was sadness.

With his luggage checked in and departure of his flight announced, all I could do for him, for us, was to hug him tightly, knowing he was crying on my shoulder while trying to stifle the sobs, not because he was a man but because he knew he had already broken my heart. He wanted to go out of my life quietly and imperceptibly, a wave that disappears amid others the second you take your eyes off it.  

I didn’t blame him for going back to Australia, I knew he couldn’t stay. In a strange, crazy way I blamed him for coming up to me and offering unsolicited advice, for spending time with me, for all the memories, for all the kisses and the tenderness, for making me love and lose him.

He knew he couldn’t ask forgiveness for that. So broke off the embrace, his cheeks wet, and left without a word.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The ticked on my name arrived several weeks after. I half-expected it. I began packing immediately.

Disembarking on the Sydney airport terminal, disoriented and jet-lagged, I rolled my suitcase behind me and scanned the moving forest of tall, fair-haired people for the familiar face. When I spotted him running towards me and calling my name out loud – a thing he would never do in Japan - I almost didn’t recognize him.

I don't remember seeing that wide, bright smile ever before.

THE END

 

~~* Regarding spitting on goggles – yeah it is done and yeah... it kinda works : >  
~~


End file.
